Stepping from the Shadows
by fatalshow
Summary: Harry has been hidden all his life, prevented from fighting in a war that dictates his future. Now he has a chance to prove who he really is, learn what he can do and fight as hard and tough as he can get. Independent!Powerful!Harry
1. Incentive

**Disclaimer : I do not clain any rights to Harry Potter. **

**Harry is not canon, this fiction takes place after the fifth book with no reference to the sixth or seventh books.**

Incentive - Chapter One

The sun was setting. Harry swing gently in the breeze staring at the horizon, thinking very little but just existing in that moment. His scuffed trainers trailed in the dust as the sling slowed to a halt, his long legs dangling over the edge of the seat. His fingers loosened their grip on the cold metal of the chain and he straightened upright. Unsure as to why he moved but certain he was bored of the swing. The light had grown dim and he knew that it was time to go back to the Dursley's house. Harry had been abandoned at 4 Privet Drive again, he had resigned himself to a summer with them as by now he had come to the conclusion that throwing tantrums just made Dumbledore more resolute that he was a volatile boy that had to be hidden for his own safety. Harry had little to say to Dumbledore after Sirius was murdered and his prophesy had been revealed, he had seen a cunning manipulative side to the old headmaster that few would admit to themselves. In Harry's eyes Dumbledore had effectively signed the death warrant on Sirius' name, everyone knew a caged dog wont play good. Harry had little wish to be pulled under the overwhelming image of Albus Dumbledore, or to fight for his decidedly weak Order of the Phoenix ranks. Knowledge was power and Harry was well aware he knew very little of importance.

* * *

As he approached the drive he saw the ghostly flicker of the television from between the curtains. "_From tomorrow we can expect further sunshine in the west with showers moving from the North…" _ said the happy weather reporter wearing an amusing knitted jumper with a bright yellow sun on the chest. "_Just like Mrs Weasley's jumpers_" thought Harry distantly as he pushed open the door. The house was quiet as if the television had been left on by accident. There were no sounds of Dudley's computer games or Vernon's blaring radio. Harry tensed his feet moving so he walked silently through the door. The house seemed different, the shadow of the street light spilling onto the mauve carpet. Small signs alerted Harry and made his heart race. The blind was still up in the kitchen, the cups set out for tea and no sound of Dudley stamping about upstairs. Silence hung heavily in the air, Harry himself too scared to make a sound as if he would disturb it. He turned and spotted a note tacked to the living room door, _Welcome Home, Harry Potter._ Harry pulled it off crumpling it in his fist and pulled out his wand. He pressed his palm against the wooden door to the living room and pushed it slowly open, wincing at the slight squeak the un-oiled hinges made in protest. His eyes fell on his uncle, lying sagged against the sofa with his glassy eyes staring and his fat mouth slack. The round hole in his forehead betraying his death. Harry stood at the door way, just looking; he stood as if pausing for a rest. his mind numb. "_I could almost fit a finger into that bullet hole_" he thought distantly. Harry turned around and walked slowly to the kitchen as if he'd merely found his uncle watching football. A quick glance and he found Petunia propped in the wash room, a heavy bruise across her left eyes and a sliced throat, the stain of blood moving across her lilac dress. "_There was no sign of a struggle_" mused Harry, _"They must have came from behind her and done it swiftly, effectively_." Crouching down Harry noted that the blood was a fresh red, meaning that the Dursley's had been attacked maybe just before his arrived, obviously after dinner since the dishes had been put away, probably just before Emmerdale as Petunia prepared their tea. Later he found Dudley slouched over his computer, blood seeping into the keys and dripping onto the floor. Harry stood at stared for a short minute unsure what to do now he had found the bodies of everyone in the Dursley family. Voldemort had found him but hadn't killed him. He had left a bloody message in the form of his family killed by muggle means to scare him, to let him know that he wasn't safe. Harry found it ironic they hadn't died the painless and quick death through the Killing Curse that his parents had been afforded. He bit down a weak smile, patted Dudley once on the back and strode from the room.

* * *

By the time he'd reached his room urgency had gripped Harry,something snapped inside all he knew was that he had to leave the house now! He tore to the tiny desk in the corner and ripped up a piece of parchment. Grabbing the nearest quill Flying through the door He tore to the tiny desk in the corner and ripped up a piece of parchment. Grabbing the nearest quill he scribbled a small note:

_Dursley's have been murdered by Voldemort. I'm leaving the house. _

_Harry Potter_

He tied the small note to Hedwig's leg, "Hedwig, take this to Grimmauld Place immediately, stay there for a few days then find me, o.k?" he said stroking the owl, she turned her head and nipped him gently in the hand before taking off into the dusk sky.

He started stuffing his books into his trunk, including all other essential items like his Marauder's map and his invisibility cloak. Grabbing the phone in his aunt's room he phoned a taxi to take him to the nearest station, his voice stayed steady but his hand shook slightly as he set the phone on the receiver with the promise of a car in a few minutes. He dragged his trunk downstairs, went in to the living room and closed the curtains, ignoring the body of his uncle and kept the television then moved onto the kitchen and raided the cupboards for food in case of an emergency. It wasn't that he didn't care that they were dead, it was just that he was so used to just dealing with blow after blow and just getting on with it, dealing with things like death had become second nature to the 15 year old. He paused when his eyes fell on a kitchen knife. A wand wouldn't do him any good for the next month until he turned 16, what else did he have for protection apart from his speed? A car horn interrupted his train of thought and he shoved the knife into his rucksack. Harry dragged his trunk out to the car and with the help of the taxi driver he loaded it into the trunk. The man was a little rounded with thinning brown hair and a wrinkly face, "Where you off today then lad?" he asked eyeing the skinny pale boy before him. Harry used his best excited teenager voice, "I'm going to visit my girlfriend in Bristol", and coupled with a lop-sided grin the taxi driver questioned nothing. Harry climbed into the backseat and idly chatted to the driver, thinking over his best plan of action in the back of his mind. The Dursley's bodies would be discovered eventually and make no mistake the blame would be pinned on the disgruntled damaged nephew who happened to be the only survivor. Harry also knew that the minute Dumbledore heard of this he'd whisk him into prison-like hiding before Harry could find a change of boxers. There had been little communication between Harry and the wizarding world as of late, Hermione and Ron would be hidden with their respective families and no-one else bothered to get in contact with him. The war was still raging but for Harry it was muted and Dumbledore was definitely not going to let him in the know anytime soon. Except Voldemort had finally pulled him into it, he had taken the first move. This was a chance for him to take control of his life and finally act against the monster who had played such a massive part of his life. He could be his own person, independent and unregulated, free to learn magic that will help him and play his own part in this chess game of politics and murder. But in the meantime Harry ran his hand through his mussed hair and glanced out at the darkening streets. Where was he going to go? What was he going to do?

* * *

Harry stood on the platform. He didn't have a passport and he didn't really have a plan. The distant clangs of trolleys and the mild smell of oil surrounded Harry as he stood motionless hand in one pocket, more than a little stumped as to what to do. Should he head up North or South? He had money of course; Harry had the sense to keep a stash of sterling in the case of emergencies, until now he didn't think he'd need it. Finally we wheeled his trolley over to the booking office, accidentally colliding with the red-brick wall earning him a dark frown from the office worker behind the glass window.

"Uh I'm sorry, but could you tell me when the next train to London leaves?" he asked, feeling the disapproval radiating from the man with a thickset jaw staring at him,

"That would be in 10 minutes, _sir_" the man curtly replied, Harry instantly fished out some of his money from his back pocket of his very baggy jeans, "How much?"

* * *

Harry settled into a small corner after, with the help from a porter, pushing his trunk into the bracket above him. He pressed himself against the soft seat and tried to settle his shaking hands. He had been chewing on his lips so much he could taste blood in his mouth and suddenly his stomach lurched. Clamping one hand to his mouth he grabbed the complimentary travel sickness bag and threw up until his stomach was empty, tears streaming down his face from the effort. A porter had appeared at his side and was rubbing his back comforting him. He set the bag aside, using the back of his hand he wiped stray tears running down his cheeks away and gave a weak smile,

"Thanks, I just got really travel sick really quickly, it usually isn't this bad but I forgot to take my tablets" he lied quickly, with another weak smile to reassure the woman that he was ok. A few people were not so subtly watching him interestedly from the seats around him, but Harry ignored them. "May I have a drink please? I need to clear my mouth." He asked the lady politely, he concerned frown easing slightly, "Of course sir" she replied before shooting a clear warning look at the other passengers to stop being so rude. The boy couldn't be older that 17 and he looked as pale as a ghost. Five minutes later Harry was sitting with a blanket, a back up sick bag and a hot sugary cup of tea clasped between his hands. His trembling had calmed to a mild twitchiness and his stomach had settled for a mild gurgling every so often. The rhythm of the coach comforted him, soothing him by the repetition that it would just keep going until they got to London. Right now he didn't need to think about anything else but sitting right there in his seat.

The train pulled into the station late at night, yet there was still small crowds of late arriving tourists moving out and onwards into London. Harry had been woken gently from sleep by the kind porter and was now standing on another platform trying to decide what to do. "_I need to find somewhere to stay for the night, I can't use magic or they'll find me" Harry's_ thoughts raced. His body was tired and the adrenaline that had kept him going was starting to wear off. He looked too suspicious, a young skinny boy standing alone in a station with an ancient trunk. He quickly shoved a bar of chocolate into his mouth to sate his hunger and grabbed his trunk and set off towards the exit. "_I'll find a B&B for tonight and in the morning I'll look for somewhere muggle to stay." _Outside he hailed a taxi, he felt really stupid waving his hand to traffic in a technique he'd only seen on television. Once in the back seat he gasped "Know any decent places to stay around here?" to the driver who looked at him in the mirror, "Plenty 'bout here, depends on your budget" clearly suggesting he thought that any one who dressed like Harry couldn't afford much. Harry shrugged. "My flight's been rescheduled for the morning, somewhere in the middle will be great."

* * *

A few days later Harry had found a small flat that he could rent for the summer and longer if he wished. The owners were an elderly couple who had bought the apartment for a daughter, who had promptly decided that she wanted to be a model in America, so they decided to rent it out. When they had first met the young man with shaggy black hair who wanted to be a tenant, they had been a little suspicious. He was young, looked pale and underfed yet he had money and wanted to pay in cash. Eventually his sheer vulnerability and manners had won them over. His story had been that his parents had died when he was a child, left him his inheritance and he had recently turned 18 and decided to find a new life in London, who would they be to deny him his dream? So Peter Millar was given the keys.

* * *

After a few days staying in a perfectly comfortable B&B Harry decided it was time to find something more permanent. He bought a few newspapers and found a suitable single bed roomed flat let out by a lovely old couple. A quick change of alias and an improvised story later he was lying on his new bed. In the space of a few days his family was dead; he'd fled the scene, moved to London, changed his name and rented a flat. He wasn't crippled with grief; he had never loved his family, all his felt was neutrality. He did have a pang of sadness at the death of a fellow human being but nothing that would cause him to slip into depression about. The death of Sirius still hung heavily in his mind but he had enough sense to realize that Sirius would beat him black and blue if he moped about over him. However at present this suddden change in his life was frankly liberating and at the moment Harry's head was spinning trying to comprehend it all. His flat was simple but suitable for his needs, simple modern decorations coupled with all the amenities. All he had to do was go grocery and clothes shopping. Experiences that were very much alien to him. In a few weeks time he would be 16 and although unable to practice magic outside of school he was determined to find a way past that barrier. He needed to get access to his vaults, Sirius' and his parents' wills, buy and obtain books so he could start learning magic otherwise withheld from him. Long ago he realised that _Wingardium Leviosa_ wouldn't be much help when in battle with Lord Voldemort and running away couldn't save him forever, not that he was very fit in the first place. Voldemort had already found him which meant that time was running out, he couldn't keep hiding behind Dumbledore and Hogwarts, the world isn't so peachy in reality. The more he thought about it the more he wondered why he hadn't been prepared more, it was obvious that he'd been a marked boy since a baby but nothing had been done about it. It was as if he was expected to survive through a dab of luck and maybe some supernatural power. "_I can't believe it took me this long to get out of there. Now I've escaped under no circumstances are they taking me back again, I will not be hidden from reality_" thought Harry determination rising in him, "_I will not go down without a fight."_

_Well that was my first chapter in about 3 years... I'm very nervous about it. Thanks for stopping by :D If anyone is interesting in becoming a Beta for this fic please send me a message.  
_


	2. True Existence

True Existence

Harry strode through a shopping centre enjoying the fact that he was not being stared at, actually he was pretty much being ignored. No-one knew what his scar meant and he thought it was fantastic. Like any typical man he knew what he wanted and didn't waste anytime getting it, he bought a few well fitting trousers, shirts and t-shirts, a luxury he had never experienced in his life. He had already stocked out his flat with food and other essentials. He was keeping an eye on the news, the death of the Dursley's had been reported and although they hadn't mentioned him it was pretty obvious he'd be the prime suspect so Harry had to find a way of disappearing, non-magically for once. After a quick stop to the opticians he had a pair of blue contact lenses to hide his trade mark emerald eyes and after a little consideration he decided to pay a visit to the hairdresser. The poor woman didn't know what to do with his hair; it was so thick and unruly. But Harry emerged two hours later a proud fake brown with a semi-respectable haircut. Even if he didn't hide his scar no-one would look twice at a blue-eyed brown-haired boy when they were looking for Harry Potter.

* * *

He had started to go to the gym and go for runs everyday to try and bulk up, something that was difficult to do considering his skinny frame but he supposed that he might as well try. In his spare time he was having a look through one or two of his text books; it was funny to see how much he hadn't bothered to learn and how much was completely useless in everyday life. It was two weeks until his 16th birthday and Harry was already bored. He threw himself down beside his books and snorted at the first page he opened,

"A charm to keep coffee hot, how… invigorating" he muttered before turning to his defence against dark arts books. At the moment all he would risk was the motion and the theory, never using his wand. He didn't want to shine like a beacon for the ministry to find him. He spent the next few hours flicking through his books and making notes on whatever he thought may be helpful, strangely when he re-read some of his potions books there were bits and pieces he'd ignored in the past that were vital to the success of the potion and he'd been messing up all this time. No wonder Snape hated him so much. It was late evening by the time Harry gave up, he was thoroughly bored. He made a resolution to buy as many interesting books as possible when he managed to check whether he was being traced. It was really quite depressing being a near-18 year old sitting alone on a Friday night with nothing to do. He pulled himself up and wandered into the bedroom and started pulling different clothes out of the wardrobe, he was going to go out.

* * *

Harry was sitting at the edge of a bar listening to the music blaring in the background and drinking a beer. For the first time in his life he was doing something a normal teenager would do. He'd missed out on the drunken nights, sexual adventures and forgotten nights. Before now he hadn't looked at the opposite sex much, at now he was making up for it as he stared out to the dance floor. "_It looks fun" _he thought, although he wasn't drunk enough yet to join the warm sweaty moving crowd to dance; he didn't want to inflict that on any one unless he was intoxicated. A girl pushed beside him to get to the bar, she shouted her order at the barman and turned with a smile to look at him. She was curvy with long brown hair and big blue eyes. Harry grinned back rather sheepishly, unsure as to how this flirting thing went. The girl came in close, "Hi my name's Claire, yours?" she said into his ear. "Pete, I'm new in town" he replied, choosing his alias for the moment. "Well I can certainly show you a few things if you want" replied Claire and with a wink she left with her drinks. Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to chase after her or fall off his stool. "_I'm going to make a fool out of myself" _he thought dimly.

* * *

After about an hour Harry finally stumbled into the throng of moving bodies pulsing to the music, he lifted his arms and moved to the music happy in his drunkenness to let go his inhibitions and just move with the flow. The girl from earlier, Claire, appeared beside him with that cheeky grin and started dancing with him. Harry without a thought moved in closer and placed a hand around her waist. They danced and moved in the heat of the club. People around them moved in the same carefree manner, she grabbed his bum and he just laughed. Their bodies flush; Harry moved down and pressed his lips to hers in a spontaneous electrifying kiss.

* * *

The next morning Harry awoke with a groan, sunlight streaming through his curtains he rolled over to shield his face. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten home last night but he could definitely remember what he got up to. With a silly grin on his face Harry loped into the bathroom to clean up, "_Damn that was good." _ Sitting with his breakfast a little later Harry was reading the paper. The Dursley's had been buried by Aunt Marge and the police were still hunting for their murders. There had been no news from Dumbledore or the Ministry so Harry assumed that they couldn't find him unless he left his magical signature and Harry was happy for the moment living as a muggle in London.

* * *

On the day of Harry's 16th birthday he woke early. The feeling of anticipation had built over the last few weeks as the day he'd set for taking his first steps of action arrived. A quick wash and shave and Harry was ready. He had found the Leaky Cauldron almost as soon as he'd arrived in London so he took the front entrance through the bar. It was emptier than usual but Tom remained faithfully drying a glass behind the counter and talking to his patrons. No-one noticed him due to his hair colour and lack of signature round black glasses so he passed through easily enough, still Harry breathed a sigh of relief once he'd entered the Alley. His first stop would not be on Diagon Alley but on Knockturn Alley. He swiftly passed through into the dark Alley and found the shop he was looking for – Clary's Curses. The shop was well set out with clear labelling for all the scrolls stacked up on each shelf, Harry moved through them trying not to disturb any of the piles for fear that they would collapse around him. A dark-haired clean-shaven man greeted him with a firm handshake.

"Morning Sir, I'm Mr Clary, How may I help you?" he asked politely, little sign of malice or otherwise evident in his face. Contrary to popular belief Knock-turn Alley was not inherently evil, the people who ran these shops didn't always have lesser morals they just had interests that lay in magic that was frowned upon and misunderstood. The ministry didn't approve what it couldn't understand and bred this distrust into generations of witches and wizards. Harry had always mused whether anyone had tried to explain to the ministry that a normal charm or spell could lead to lethal consequences. He thought not. "I would like you to investigate whether my person or my wand has any charms or spells acting upon us if that is at all possible?" asked Harry as he fished out his money pouch. Granted money is a motivator if he ever knew one. The shop keeper nodded and gestured to a doorway just behind him. "Sir if you would just follow me into an area a little more private? Marcus look after the floor" he called to a younger boy nearby. Harry was a little apprehensive but followed Clary into a small room behind the till, with a little window and a small chair. Mr Clary gestured that Harry take a seat and he did. "Now I will cast in indicator spell, it will indicate whether you have any spells acting upon you, I will neutralise whichever you choose, I will then repeat the procedure for your wand." Harry nodded and sat still as the Mr Clary passed his wand along the length of his body. Harry was intrigued when 3 small runes appeared on his chest, he knew enough from Hermione that runes indicated spells but he couldn't tell what they meant exactly.

"Now Mr…?" "Millar" supplied Harry, "Now Mr Millar, it appears you have a ministerial tracker and two individual wizard trackers upon yourself, however I cannot tell who cast them."

"Could you neutralise both? Is that possible?" asked Harry slightly perturbed that he was being tracked by so many people.

"Of course, it will take only a moment."

The runes flashed out of existence promptly. Mr Clary repeated the procedure with much the same results on his wand. After a quick payment and many thanks Harry left the shop feeling secure that no-one could track him from now on. After stocking up on potions ingredients, Harry moved onto Gringotts Bank.

* * *

He stood and looked at the looming white building before pushing through the crowd to the heavy glass doors. Stepping into the marble paved forum of hushed activity the loud noises of outside faded away. Harry waited in queue until he was seen by a grumpy looking goblin that just held out his hand for the vault key. "Excuse me but could I meet with an official to discuss the wills of my late parents and godfather, also the status of my current account?" he asked unsure whether he was in the right place. The goblin sneered and muttered "Liarok will speak to you", promptly a small and rather fat goblin scurried out and bowed to Harry. "Sir if you could come to my office if you please." Again Harry followed the plump goblin to a small conservative office with a simple desk, two chairs and a cabinet. Harry settled himself into the chair, "I wanted to enquire about the details of my late mother and father, Lily and James Potter, as well as the late Sirius Black's last will and testaments if possible Liarok?" said Harry fixing the goblin with a stare. He didn't trust these people, he was pretty certain that he should have been given information about his status far earlier than this. But time will tell who had been interfering with his matters, there was no point working himself up about it now.

Liarok cleared his throat and clambered up into the chair opposite Harry, his pointy elbows resting on the smooth wood, "If you could give me the key of the Potter vault, it would provide sufficient ID for the moment?" he smoothly countered before going into details.

Harry slid the small key across the table where it was snatched up by the fat goblin and studied for a short time under a microscope. With a grunt Liarok seemed satisfied and snapped his fingers. A large file bound with twine materialised in front of them. Harry's eyebrows tweaked as he gave away his interest in the object, Liarok produced a knife to cut the twine and started sorting through the various documents.

"As you may have suspected, Mr Potter, your mother and father had stipulated in their last will and testament that their estate may be transferred to you in the event of their untimely death. Until now it has been under that care of Mr Albus Dumbledore, until further notice. Gringotts was in the belief that you were aware of these arrangements and were happy for them to continue until otherwise stated." Harry frowned, until now he'd heard nothing about his inheritance, "_What purpose would serve Dumbledore by withholding this from me_? thought Harry. The goblin slid a small contract before Harry and pointed a thin red line at the bottom, "If you could prick your finger and allow a drop of blood to fall here that will confirm the transferral of the Potter estates from the care of Mr Albus Dumbledore to yourself. I assume you would like to halt any further payments as well?" asked Liarok briskly, Harry's head snapped up from the contract and met his fiery emerald eyes with the goblin's lidded orbs, "What do you mean payments?" he asked sharply. "Sir, since Mr Albus Dumbledore has been the guardian of your estate we have been under instructions to transfer a certain amount monthly from your account to his, it has been listed as a charitable donation towards the war effort Mr Potter." Harry's eyes darkened briefly as the realization hit him, Dumbledore had been siphoning money from his accounts to fund the activities of the Order without his consent. The pang of betrayal hit hard and Harry had to control his expression, to maintain his cool facade in the presence of the goblin, a sign of weakness would lead to exploitation. "_Not that it stopped anyone" _he thought bitterly. "I would like to discontinue any further payments from my accounts that have not been directly authorized by either my self or my parents. If it is at all possible may I have a list of recent transactions and my investments please. However in the meantime I will complete the contract at present." replied Harry coolly, the goblin slightly shocked at the demeanor now present in the young boy just nodded and produced the required documents.

Harry pricked his finger and letting the blood drip onto the contract watched fascinated as it expanded across the parchment to the size of a muggle fifty pence piece or a galleon with the image of a rearing stag embossed on the surface. "_The seal of the Potter family_" realised Harry. "And the Black Will?" asked Harry eyeing the goblin once more, "Ah yes sir" said Liarok with another click of the fingers another folder appeared, "Upon the death of Mr Sirius Black, his estate has been divided between certain parties. A sole beneficiary you are to receive 80 of his gross estate as well as Black Lordship. Similarly this has been under the care of Mr Albus Dumbledore, if you would like to continue with the transferral of his assets to your name?" Harry repeated the blood contract again, uncertain what was in store for him. He had been unaware that Sirius had chosen him as the Heir to the Black Family or to his estate so it was more than a shock to the system. Not wanting to seem overly surprised at this information Harry maintained his calm and collected composure. There was only a little more business the goblin needed to complete such as the consolidation of his trust fund and the distribution of his assets between the Potter and Black vaults. Harry converted a little more money into Muggle sterling, "May I take a trip down to see my family vaults?" he asked Liarok who agreed to escort him immediately.

* * *

A long and bumpy ride later Harry was standing before a wall of engraved metal seemingly imprinted into the stone face rising 12 feet in height. "Sir, you must place your palm at this point and state your name" said Liarok, bowing away from Harry as he moved towards the centre of the metal door.

He could feel a deep heat as he pressed his hand upon the crest of Potter, little red sparks of energy flickered along his finger illuminating his face slightly,

"Harry James Potter, Head of Potter House and Black House" he said quietly but the words seemed to reverberate and the metal wall cracked open, dust unsettling from years of disuse. Upon peering inside the vault Harry only had one thought,

"_Holy Shit."_

* * *

Well 2nd chapter, yet again I may adjust at another point. if you like it let me know :D because at the moment I'm just writing for my own entertainment. x I'm looking for a beta. anyone who is will to take up the job please contact me asap :)

* * *


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